Does anyone remember my pre-bar-exam, pre-Europe whining about my damned feet? That I'd fallen down some stairs (clutz) back in 2002 or 2003 or something, and hurt myself to the point that I can no longer wear cool shoes?

I ended up buying the new sandals that I was considering, and they were great for my feet the whole time in Europe. There was one day where we walked so much that at the end of the day, my feet started to swell, which caused a slight sore spot on the top of my foot. But it went away, and I was fine. Structurally, the shoes were fantastic, and my feet were not an issue.

Then we came home, and I was so excited to put on a crappy, "my foot is naked" pair of shoes, I wore flip flops for 2 days. Just around town.

Then, last night, we came home with the girls, and I went into their room to put their clean sheets on the bed. I was between their beds, which are very close to each other. (As pictured here.) Guess what I did? While maneuvering between the two beds?

I fell.

Like the freaking clutz that I am.

I am really not sure what happened. But I landed at the foot of the two beds, and with my toe feeling like it had turned to dust inside my skin. I yelled. It hurt. Beloved came running in and said .... I don't know. Something. Something like, "oh, don't get up, let's make sure you're okay." How did I respond?

DON'T FUCKING TELL ME WHAT TO DO!!!

Nice.

It just hurt so much! I couldn't believe how bad my foot and my legs (a cut on one, and rug burn on the other) were hurting. He left, and made the girls leave (yeah, they were around). I writhed about on the bed for a minute, and then forced myself to limp, or rather drag myself, out into the living room to apologize to Beloved. Purposefully in front of the children. I told him that he was very nice to offer me help, and that I was not angry at all at him, and that it just HURT SO MUCH, that I yelled. And I'm sorry.

Then I told him that I broke my toe. And my foot. And that my foot was going to explode. And the that the powder that my toe bone had become was going to get caught in my heart, and make me die.

He made me an ice pack.

I did not, in fact, break my toe. I knew this once the initial ridiculous insane nauseating pain went away, and I causally twisted my toe in odd positions to see the cut on the underside of it. I also realized, though, that it was not just the toe itself that I hurt, but that at the base of all the toes, there were pulled muscles (!!!) and a lot of soreness.

Today, it's only the base of the toes that hurts. It hurts a good bit right now, at 10:19 p.m. Approximately 28 hours after the incident.

I skipped out on the gym this a.m., partly b/c it was hurting. I went swimming this afternoon, though, and it was okay.

Why do I do these things to myself? I don't understand it. I am not happy about it.

I suck.

*One of the girls' latest words is "evil." Everyone that bothers them, or anything that bugs them is "Evil." I actually don't like it. I think "evil" should be reserved for the truly awful, and that when it's used casually or without thought, it's a bad thing. Honestly - the word makes me think only one thing: George W. Bush. Whether it's because I think he is evil (I do), or because of how much I hate his casual throwing out of the word, as "harmless" rhetoric, and how truly harmful I think it is. It's harmful. So, I'm not really thrilled with them using it, and I am using it tongue in cheek, above.